


A&E

by karuvapatta



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Angst, F/M, Hospitals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-18
Updated: 2019-02-18
Packaged: 2019-10-30 16:25:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17832041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/karuvapatta/pseuds/karuvapatta
Summary: Gabriel Agreste receives a disturbing phone call.





	A&E

The shape wasn’t right. He could see it now, after filling in most of the details – half a day’s work, and this blasted handbag looked just about good enough to slap a fake logo on top and sell it on a market stall to gullible tourists. Perhaps he could rework it, but in all honesty, he was annoyed enough to scrap the entire design and start over.

Gabriel was just setting down the basic shape when his ringtone chimed. His stylus hovered right above the screen, Adrien’s photo coming into view where he couldn’t ignore it anymore. With a weary sigh, Gabriel hit the “Answer” button and prayed that whatever it was, it would be brief.

“Dad?”

Something was wrong. From the hesitation in Adrien’s voice, the fearful tone of it, the way it cut off abruptly and remained silent for a moment or two… Gabriel didn’t have much in the way of parental instincts, but what little he did have were sounding alarm bells in his head.

“Adrien? What happened? Where are you?”

While barking the questions, he dismissed the sketchpad and pulled up Adrien’s schedule that Nathalie sent him daily. According to her, Adrien had finished school about forty minutes ago – yes, if he remembered correctly Nathalie had left to pick him up…

“I’m at the hospital, Dad.”

Gabriel drew in a sharp breath.

“What _happened_? Are you—”

“I’m fine,” Adrien interrupted him. “I promise, I’m fine. It’s—it’s Nathalie.”

His relief was short-lived. Gabriel set down the stylus and transferred the conversation to his phone, pressing it tight to his ear.

“Which hospital?”

He typed in the address to his Uber app, fingers trembling slightly. Adrien didn’t say much else but didn’t hung up either, maybe drawing some comfort from Gabriel’s own stubborn silence.

The ride was excruciatingly long. Every red light felt like eternity, and Gabriel had to stop himself from snapping at the driver each time he stopped or slowed down. Once they parked in front of the hospital entrance, Gabriel slammed the door shut behind him and didn’t bother with goodbyes.

Inside of the building was hectic, as he suspected most hospitals were. Between the queues, shops, and various windows, he had no idea which way to go. For a full minute he stood there blinking under the harsh lights, while the sea of people crashed around him.

“Dad?”

“I’m here,” Gabriel said automatically. “Where can I find you?”

“It’s, umm—” he heard other voices on Adrien’s end of the line. “Accidents and Emergency? It’s—down to the main hall, then turn right, go up the stairs. Follow the signs, basically.”

He did. The signs marking A&E were bright red, conspicuous once he knew to look for them. It had to be another entrance to the building – yes, he could see the doors now, several ambulances parked in front of it. People here moved rapidly but with more purpose, a couple of paramedics wheeling in an old man on a stretcher, his blank eyes fixed on the ceiling. A man with blood on his shirt was seating on a plastic chair, holding a tissue to his cheek and swearing into his cell phone. And, squeezed in between two elderly ladies, was Adrien himself.

“Dad,” he chocked out, pale as death, and launched himself at Gabriel. Gabriel barely managed to catch him – he had to back away a step to keep Adrien from toppling them both, and then held him tightly.

“Are you sure you are fine?” he asked.

“Yes, yes, I’m sure.”

“That’s good to hear.” Gabriel hesitated. “Where is—where is Nathalie?”

Adrien pointed numbly to one of the closed doors. Fearing the worst, Gabriel let go of Adrien’s shoulder and pressed down on the door handle.

Inside was busy. Several patient beds were put side to side, some of them occupied, others empty. Nurses were rushing in between them, taking blood samples, adjusting monitors, filling in paperwork. He saw two doctors by the bed on the right, but a screen was blocking his view of whoever was lying in it. None of the other patients looked remotely familiar.

Gabriel grabbed the screen and pulled it to the side.

Nathalie.

It had to be. He recognized the red ombre streak in her hair; he didn’t recognize much else. They covered her body but one bare arm was lying limp on the duvet, a plastic tube feeding into the crook of her elbow, some apparatus hooked to her index finger. He could see her collarbones, and the electrodes attached below them. Her face disappeared behind another tube, a plastic _thing_ shoved into her mouth, taped onto the skin of her chin and cheeks with a band aid. She was completely, utterly still.

“Sir? You _really_ cannot be here,” a nurse said, visibly livid.

The doctors turned around.

“Oh? Yeah, absolutely. We’re going to have to ask you to leave—”

“What happened to her?”

“Sir, if you have any questions, you will have to address them to the leading physician.”

“And who’s that?”

One of them, a dark-skinned woman in her forties, glared at him.

“That would be me. Unfortunately, I’m a bit busy at the moment—”

“Wait, the CT just came in,” the other doctor pressed something on his tablet. “Clean, from the looks of it.”

“Show me—and can you please escort the gentleman out?”

Gabriel tried to look at the tablet as it was being passed, but the image wouldn’t tell him anything either way. None of the monitors told him anything – there were squiggly lines on the main one with a column of numbers, then another row of squiggly lines and even more numbers on the other machine, wheeled in to the side of Nathalie’s bed.  

“No signs of blood, no dilatation of the ventricles – sir, _please_ wait outside. I’ll join you shortly – well, we need to do a lumbar puncture, can you ask Marie to get the kit?”

A nurse seized Gabriel by the elbow and steered him towards the door. By the time he realized what was happening he was already outside, the door slamming in his face.

“How is she?” Adrien asked.

Gabriel turned around and stared at his son, who looked up to him with Emilie’s bright, anxious eyes.

“I don’t know,” he said.

A loud group of people passed them by. The clattering wheels of a wheelchair brought Gabriel back to the present. He realized he had squeezed Adrien’s shoulder to the point of discomfort, and that he was still standing motionless before the closed door – the room Nathalie was in – where he really should be right now—

“Come on, Dad,” Adrien pulled him towards a chair. “They’re taking care of her. Come and sit down.”

The plastic chair creaked beneath him. Adrien took the seat next to it, his hands curling and uncurling on his thighs, his gaze lost somewhere on the floor before his feet.

“Tell me what happened,” Gabriel said eventually.

“I don’t know,” Adrien said. “Nathalie showed up to pick me up from school. I got in the car, she asked me a couple of questions—we drove past two, maybe three intersections. Then suddenly she said that she’s not feeling very well and stopped the car on the sidewalk. When I asked her what’s wrong, she just looked at me for a moment, and then passed out—” his voice trembled. “I tried to shake her awake. She was slumped forward and didn’t react to anything. I got out of the car—some people stopped to see what’s wrong, and they got her out, too, and called for an ambulance. The paramedics agreed to bring me along, but they took her away as soon as we got here, and no one has been able to tell me _anything_.”

On impulse, Gabriel hugged his son again. Adrien was shaking, his face buried in Gabriel’s chest and his arms wrapped around his waist.

“She was fine in the morning,” Adrien mumbled. “And fine when she got to school – maybe she was paler than usual, I don’t know, she’s just—I don’t _know_ …”

Nathalie hadn’t been fine that morning. She was pale, the concealer beneath her eyes thicker than she would normally apply it. Before the conference call with their Milan branch, she had another one of those coughing fits. But she didn’t say anything and Gabriel didn’t press the issue, because why would he? Nathalie was a sensible woman. If she was truly sick she wouldn’t have come to work, wouldn’t have agreed to drive Adrien anywhere.

At least she stopped the car. Her self-preservation instinct was apparently non-existent, but she wouldn’t do anything to knowingly put Adrien in danger. At least—

The doctor walked out of the room and scanned the row of seats until she noticed Gabriel.

“There you are,” she said. “We can talk now. This way, please.”

She opened a couple of doors and glanced inside, but none of the rooms were empty. In the end they had to settle for the far side of the corridor, where they could speak in relative solitude.

“Are you Miss Sancoeur’s family?” she asked.

Gabriel shook his head. “I’m her employer.”

“Oh.” The doctor paused. “That complicates matters. You are not authorized to receive any information about Miss Sancoeur’s health without her express permission.”

“How can she give her permission?” Gabriel snapped. “She’s _unconscious_.”

“Yes, that’s usually the problem,” the doctor nodded, then turned towards Adrien. “I heard you were with her, right? Can you tell me what happened?”

Haltingly, Adrien repeated his story. Gabriel kept a hand on his shoulder throughout; he didn’t seem to be able to let go.

“I see. And are you aware of any medical conditions she may have? Chronic diseases, medications, previous hospitalizations?”

The pause was long, uncomfortable. Nathalie practically lived at his house these days, but he hardly knew anything about her. She was loyal, extraordinarily so, and competent; that had been enough. It had always been enough.

“She never discussed her medical issues with me,” Gabriel said stiffly. “I cannot help you there.”

“Is she going to be okay?” Adrien asked.

His wide, guileless eyes were getting past the doctor’s defences. Emilie had been the same – impossible to say no to.

“At this moment we don’t know what’s causing her condition,” the doctor said kindly. “Her blood tests are inconclusive. The CT scan looks normal. We are still waiting for the toxicology report.” She turned towards Gabriel. “Sir, are you aware of any substance, legal or not, Miss Sancoeur may have used? Or, perhaps, something that has changed in her mental state lately, a stressful event, loss of family member…?”

“What?” Adrien asked. “What are you talking about?”

The doctor winced. Then she said to Gabriel, much more quietly: “Anything at all would be helpful. We cannot test for every substance on Earth.”

Adrien looked between the two of them.

“Nathalie wouldn’t do anything like that,” he said.

Gabriel squeezed his shoulder.

“What do you want me to do?” he asked sharply. “Break into her apartment? Sweep her bathroom for illegal drugs?”

“Obviously I don’t want you to break into anywhere,” the doctor said. “But if you know anything, anything at all, you have to tell us. At the moment she is completely unresponsive. Any information you may have, no matter how shameful or illegal, could make the difference between her life and death.”

Adrien’s voice hitched. “No, don’t be stupid. Nathalie isn’t going to die. She’ll wake up and she’s going to be just fine. Right, Dad?” he tugged at Gabriel’s sleeve, expression pleading. “Dad?”

_Any information_. The Peacock Miraculous was hidden in the safe in his bedroom, the other one, after Adrien found the one in the office. It lay there, its Kwami dormant, a pretty bauble. No one would think twice upon seeing it, save perhaps the Guardian.

It just lay there, having sucked the life out of Emilie, and now out of Nathalie too. And Gabriel had no one left to keep him sane. Adrien had no one left to take care of him. No one—

_If she dies, that’s on you,_ a treacherous voice whispered in Gabriel’s ear. It sounded a lot like Nooroo, but wouldn’t shut up even when Gabriel willed it to.

But another voice could drown it out, another thought: _There’s a way to save them. And only you can do it._

_Only one way._

“No,” Gabriel said hollowly. “I don’t know anything.”


End file.
